


The Bespin Diaries

by EquusGirl (EquusGirl0621)



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Original Trilogy
Genre: Angst, Arguing, Bespin, Canon Compliant, Diary/Journal, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Grief/Mourning, Hurt/Comfort, Insecurity, Interpersonal Trauma, Misunderstandings, Movie: Star Wars: The Empire Strikes Back, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pining, Rating May Change, Slow Burn, Tags May Change, Trauma, which canon you ask?, yes - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-21
Updated: 2019-11-19
Packaged: 2020-12-27 10:16:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,305
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21117110
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EquusGirl0621/pseuds/EquusGirl
Summary: Faced with a month long trip aboard theMillennium Falconwith only Han, Chewie, and Threepio for company, Leia is forced to stop and confront a great many things. A look at the trip to Bespin and everything that happened on that sub-lightspeed journey through the lens of Leia’s diary.





	1. Kriff

**Author's Note:**

> A massive 'thank you' to my beta, [Ksco](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ksco/pseuds/Ksco), not only for the absolutely gorgeous moodboard but for making this fic readable and giving me the confidence to post it. Your encouragement and reactions made all the difference. <3 (Y'all should go read her fics; she's hella talented.)
> 
> And thank you to all the lovely people in the Den; without all the late night sprints, encouragement, and enthusiasm, this fic would not exist, much less actually published.

  
1013 GST  
13:3:3656 ATC  
1/41  


  
I’m not even sure where to start, so much has happened since I was able to sit down and make an entry. Let’s see…. I had a very public fight with Han about very private matters. Nearly lost Luke to a snow beast. Then exposure. Nearly lost Han. Kissed Luke. Oversaw the evacuation of Echo Base. Narrowly avoided being crushed while escaping the collapsing tunnels of Echo Base while trying to evade Imperial capture. Been shot at. Been chased by no less than three Star Destroyers. Nearly atomized in an asteroid field (this was not my idea). Kissed Han (not my idea either). Nearly eaten by a giant, asteroid-dwelling worm creature. Narrowly evaded Imperial capture. Again. Finally outwitted said Imperials. (That was Han’s doing too. Granted we wouldn’t have had to go through half of these ordeals if his ship’s hyperdrive worked when it was supposed to.) And now, I’m currently stuck on a month long flight at sublight speeds to some unknown planet in hopes that Han’s not friend will fix his ship. A _month._ On Han’s rustbucket he calls a ship. With Han, Chewie, and Threepio. Goddess save me. <strike>It’s going to be a miracle if there’s not a homicide.</strike>

Currently, I’m avoiding Han by hiding out in the ventral gun turret. I know ‘hiding’ is sort of an oxymoron considering how small this kriffing ship is but I need a few moments of peace and quiet to _think_. I don’t think I’ve stopped for some 36 hours and I really ought to sleep. But I’m not quite ready to try that yet. 

I just need to sit and process a few things first. Then I’ll sleep. Maybe. 

At least Chewie’s on my side. He even stopped by to give me a blanket so I didn’t get cold. This might sound strange, but it’s the absolute warmest blanket I’ve ever encountered. I can’t figure out what kind of fiber it is but its _soft_. 

Where was I? Right. Hiding in the gun turret. Like a _child_. It’s rather nice here though. I don’t feel nearly as claustrophobic as I do on the rest of the ship. If I focus hard enough, I can almost pretend I’m just on a balcony overlooking the night sky. I’m almost certain I’ll be spending a lot of time here. To be honest, I’m a little worried about how I’m going to hold up being confined to such a small space for so long. A month seems like eternity….

And we’re going to stop thinking about that now and move on to a different subject. Like how I nearly lost the two people I’ve grown closest to in the past three years. Maybe it is ridiculous and selfish to say but waiting for Han and Luke to return was...harrowing. There’s no better way to put it. Not knowing if either of them would come back. Being forced to do nothing while both men were out in the unforgiving elements on Hoth...I think I’d have gone mad if I hadn’t sought out Chewie and waited out the night with him. 

And I am so grateful for what Han did. I’d probably even let him do it again. But there was a small, selfish part of me that wanted to hold him back. We didn’t know if Luke was alive or dead when Han set out. Han very well could have died for nothing. But he didn’t, he saved Luke’s life. (Apparently that somehow involved Tauntaun entrails? I don’t know, I didn’t want too many details but I also might have been a tad tipsy on Corellian whiskey.) 

I guess I’d never realized just how much I’ve come to care about Luke and Han. (That last one was rather unexpected. Luke’s a sweetheart. But Han?) Faced with the high likelihood of losing them both...oh, it’s so stupid. It feels absolutely selfish considering I did nothing but sit in the safety of the bunker working on ships and drinking with Chewie. But the whole night...I couldn’t escape the thought that I must be doomed to see everyone I care about die. I’ve come to regard Luke and Han as family over the course of three years. We’ve been through a lot together. Nearly lost our lives more than I care to think about. Then I was forced to just _sit_ there and do nothing but wait and pray they were returned to me. 

I never was one for praying but I’ve found myself doing it a lot more recently. I don’t necessarily believe any more than I used to but...it’s comforting. Or it can be. It wasn’t much comfort that night. I don’t know. It was just like...being faced with the possibility of losing two of the people I care most about. After everything that had already happened with Alderaan and Cassian. 

Kriff. I still can’t think about that too much without losing it. _Moving on._

After everything that happened...I couldn’t help but think that I’m meant to be alone for the rest of my life. That my love is a curse. Goddess, it’s so _stupid_ and I must seem like some melodramatic teenager from the tridee holos but, there it is. That’s what it felt like. And no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t shake those thoughts. 

I felt like I was drowning. 

Thankfully, Chewie was kind enough to keep me company. For the most part we just worked on X-Wings and the _Falcon_ in companionable silence. (My Shyriiwook still isn’t great.) But perhaps the only funny thing to come from the whole ordeal was the fact that Han almost seemed jealous when he found out I’d spent most of the night with Chewie. Though that could’ve been because Chewie brought out a bottle of Han’s good whiskey in the early hours of the morning. However, that was _nothing_ compared to the look on Han’s face when I kissed Luke in the med bay. Because yes, that really happened. 

Stars, I don’t even know what I was thinking. Yes, I do. I just wanted to wipe that stupid smirk off Han’s stupid face. Using Luke to do so was selfish and cruel, born out of a reckless impulse to spite Han Solo. _Who does that?_ I owe Luke the biggest apology when I eventually get back to the Alliance. In a month.

Well, I suppose that’s what you get for being selfish and reckless, Organa. I just hope I don’t hurt Luke’s feelings beyond repair. I really have come to care about him. He’s like the brother I never had…

My feelings for Han, on the other hand… Those are much more complicated. I’d been so offended when he tried to suggest that I had feelings for him. I was so sure he was just trying to make fun of me. Now… I’m afraid he might be right.

Kissing Luke hadn’t inspired any feelings whatsoever. Perhaps part of it had been an experiment. Not that it makes my actions any less reprehensible. But Goddess. I wanted to smack Han when he told me I could use a good kiss. As if all my feelings were solely because a man wasn’t giving me attention. A ‘good kiss’ had done absolutely nothing for me. And I hate to admit that I felt gratified at proving Han wrong on that one. 

Joke’s on me, I guess. Because _Han’s_ kiss… That wasn’t nothing. And not only was it a ‘good kiss’ but I _enjoyed_ it. It still didn’t miraculously fix all my problems. (I don’t think any amount of physical affection could fix my problems. I’m not naive.) But Han was right in a way. No matter how much I hate the implication I need to be kissing men (and by extension, that any negative emotions I have must be because I’m not getting any), it doesn’t change the fact that it took kissing Han to realize that my feelings for him aren’t as platonic as I’d fooled myself into believing. 

What am I doing with my life? Arguing about my love life in public hallways. Kissing men with an audience and in dark circuitry bays. _Goddess wept._

In a sick and twisted way, I’m so relieved my aunties aren’t around to bear witness to such shenanigans. Kalldonna would be absolutely appalled to know I was yelling at Han in a public place for the whole Rebellion to hear. And what’s worse, I was the instigator! Chasing after him and refusing to let him leave. Only to take it a step further and practically make out with a smuggler in a dark bay on said smuggler’s ship. (Not that I personally have a problem with Han’s profession. The Rebel Alliance owes a great deal to him and his abilities. But my stars, what a scandal it would have caused in a different time. I know Han is a good person but his record doesn’t exactly look good on a datapad.) 

I’d like to say I have no idea why I let him kiss me earlier (or why I kissed him back) but it doesn’t exactly take a genius to know I couldn’t help but wonder what Han meant by a ‘good kiss’. Not that I have much to compare it to… but I’m pretty sure that was good. I enjoyed it. I mean, I know one’s generally supposed to enjoy kissing. That’s how it’s _supposed_ to be. 

His hands had been so warm. His lips too, a little dry, but warm nonetheless. And gentle; he’d been so unbelievably gentle. And the feelings they’d engendered...it was like warmth spread from every point of contact. 

Back on Hoth, it was always _so_ cold, _all_ the time, one forgot what it’s like to be warm. Truly _warm_. In space it’s only fractionally better. But in that circuit bay...his hands had been so warm...calloused and rough, just as I’d expected them to be but the way he’d been massaging my fingers...it was all so _tender_.

For all his talk and innuendo, he was remarkably well-behaved; he didn’t try to stick his tongue down my throat or cop a feel. He didn’t push up against me or pin me to the wall. He did have me rather cornered but I never felt uncomfortable.

Honestly? It was everything a first kiss _should_ be. Gentle and soft and warm….

Kriff, get a hold of yourself, Organa! You’re not sixteen! 

Of course, when Threepio interrupted us and Han’s back was turned, me being the immature child I am, I ran. Don’t ask me why I did it. I just did. I don’t know… it was like the moment broke and… I… just became… absolutely _mortified_. 

I think I was scared he’d know how inexperienced I was. Am. 

I mean, I’m 22 and I’ve never had a real kiss. The last thing I wanted him to know was how wholly inexperienced I am in these matters. 

I wanted him to like it. I want him to like _me_. And I was scared he didn’t. 

Kriff.

This was not the revelation I wanted. This is not what I want to deal with right now. I have more important concerns than unrequited feelings. 

Maybe they’re not unrequited...he did kiss me, after all. 

No, that’s ridiculous. Laughable. But still, I do not have the capacity to deal with this right now. 

Wait. Who says I _have to_? Obviously ignoring these feelings isn’t a good idea but just because I acknowledge them doesn’t mean I have to _act_ on them. And Han certainly doesn’t have to know I have such feelings. <strike>Never mind that he probably already does.</strike> Besides, once this kriffing ship is fixed and he’s returned me to the Alliance, he’s leaving. It would be absolutely absurd to act on such feelings. 

But...if he doesn’t have any romantic feelings for me, what did that kriffing kiss mean? The only other explanation would be… he’s just after sex…?

I suppose an interest in sex is better than no interest at all? Maybe. I don’t know how I feel about that. Not that I haven’t thought about having sex with him. (I mean, he _is_ ridiculously good looking and one does wonder if he’s not just all talk. Not that I’d even know the difference.) It’s just… I don’t know. It’s not what I want. And to be honest, the idea of him being sexually attracted to me freaks me out a little. Don’t ask me why. _I don’t know. I just don’t like it._

On that note, I need to go relieve Chewie of watch. 

  
1448 GST  


  
Okay. I think I got it figured out. The reason I’m so freaked out by the idea of Han being sexually attracted to me is because I don’t want him to use it against me?

But I don’t think he’s that kind of person. He doesn’t leer at me. And sure, he makes some comments but they’re not disgusting. They don’t make me want to crawl out of my skin and scrub myself down with bleach. Out of all the numerous compromising situations we’ve found ourselves in over the years, he was nothing but a gentleman. 

──────────

  
1218 GST  
14:3:3656 ATC  
2/41  


I can’t stop thinking about what that kriffing kiss meant. It’s driving me insane and _that_ bugs me. I should not be so consumed by a kiss. Or whatever feelings I might have for Han. I don’t want to be. I don’t want to sit here and over analyze every little detail. Every interaction I’ve had with him recently. And what’s worse is he’s going to take watch in less than three hours. No more hiding for me….

If it was just about sex, one would think there’d have been more roving hands. Or tongue. But he didn’t even open his mouth. Nor did his hand move from my shoulder blade. Sure he had backed me into the wall and he was close enough that I could feel his body heat but he didn’t even try to bodily pin me to the wall. 

Oddly enough, I don’t think that I’d have minded if he had. Perhaps I would have even _liked_ it. Is that normal? I barely know him. Not in a physically intimate way anyway. I’d like to think I’d enjoy that kind of thing. All that pushing and pulling, that give and take born out of passion and desire. 

But… if I try to imagine Han pressing me up against a wall… sliding a hand to my lower back to pull me closer… maybe pinning my hand above my head?

_Kriff!_

In theory I’d like it. In practice? There are a lot of caveats. A lot of unknowns. So many questions. Would he stop if I told him to? Would he notice if I became uncomfortable? Would he even care? What would he do to ensure I was comfortable?

It’s that uncertainty. There’s just enough to make me balk at the idea. After all, we’re not on a crowded base. I’m quite literally trapped here with him, with only Chewbacca and Threepio to intervene. It’s not like the droid would even stand a chance… There are just so many variables. Would Chewie stop him? (That I’m more sure of somehow; I’m almost positive he would step in.) But that’s assuming it’s obvious I want Han to stop. What about all those strange gray areas? 

If I didn’t like it, there’s no avoiding him. At best, it would be painfully awkward and at worst...we’d be making everyone including ourselves miserable until we reached Bespin. Even then I still wouldn’t be free of him and Goddess only knows what this Lando is like. Not to mention it could take days to get back to the fleet depending where they are.

I think it’s fairly obvious that given all of the above, I shouldn’t enter into any sort of relationship with Han. Not only do I think I’m woefully unequipped to handle such a relationship, the chances of it going bad aren't worth the minuscule chance it’d go right. Besides, I have the Rebellion to think about. I don’t have time to get involved with someone.  



	2. Insecurities

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Han finally finds a moment to talk to Leia, but it doesn't go the way he expected it to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another huge thank you to my beta, [Ksco](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ksco/pseuds/Ksco). I don't think I could ever properly articulate how much I appreciate your kind comments and insightful feedback. It keeps me sane and encourages me when I just want to delete everything in frustration. And a special shout out to [tmwillson3](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tmwillson3/pseuds/tmwillson3) for being a sounding board and listening to my ramblings as I try to figure out what I want to convey.

Han entered the cockpit, making sure to make some noise so that he didn’t scare Leia. She was always yelling at him for sneaking up on her; never mind the fact that he didn’t _mean_ to. He held out a cup of tea to her but she only turned to eye it warily before turning her gaze to him. He rolled his eyes. Did she always have to be so suspicious? Couldn’t he just be _nice_? “Relax, your Highness. It’s only tea, not a marriage proposal.” 

She held his gaze for a moment longer before taking the cup from him, wrapping her hands around it and holding it to her chest. “Thank you,” she said, quietly.

“You’re welcome.” Han took the seat next to her, feeling weird sitting in Chewie’s seat. He looked over all the various gauges and monitors out of habit; it’s not like much had changed since he’d left five hours ago. 

“Did you need something, Captain?” Her tone was clipped and aloof; so they were back to formality and titles. Fankriffintastic. He stifled a sigh.

“Can’t I just bring you a cup of tea while you’re on watch?” Granted, he’d also wanted to check on her. The only time he’d seen her yesterday was during their shift change and she’d all but run out of the cockpit like her ass was on fire when she’d heard him coming. When he didn’t see her, it felt was like she wasn’t onboard. And to be honest, it made him a little mad that she was able to hide so well on his own ship. It shouldn’t be possible.

“Of course, but you aren’t _just_ bringing me a cup of tea.” Leia kept her eyes on the viewport, blowing on her beverage.

Han rolled his eyes and sipped his caf. “Just wanted to check on you; you’ve been hiding,” he said with a shrug. Might as well be honest.

She shot him a scathing look. “I haven’t been _hiding_. I just...don’t want to be in the way.”

“Uh-huh.” She hadn’t been in her cabin when he’d sought her out earlier today, the door had been open and the cabin seemingly untouched. Chewie had been suspiciously ignorant when Han had asked if he’d seen her. Sith only knew where she’d spent the night. “Figured you’d’ve slept by now.”

“How do you know I haven’t slept? Are you keeping tabs on me?” Why did she have to sound so defensive? He’d just wanted to check on her because he cared. 

“The door was open and your cabin untouched. Not what I’d call ‘keepin’ tabs’, Princess.” Leia took another sip of her tea, ignoring him as she continued to stare out of the viewport in silence. “Have you slept?”

“Yes,” she snapped. Han narrowed his eyes, not sure if she was telling the truth. It was hard to tell when he could only see her profile, but her face was flushed and the short wisps of hair near the nape of neck were stuck to her skin. 

She was still in her snowsuit from Hoth. “Aren’t y’hot in that thing?” 

“No.”

“Liar.”

Leia huffed and shot him a glare, to which he only smiled. Her reaction was all he needed to know that he was right.

“It’s not like I expected to be stranded on this hunk of junk,” she muttered, turning to the viewport again. 

“I got more’n enough clothes to go around. All y’had to do was ask,” he said, graciously ignoring the jab at his ship. Anything had to be better than boiling in that snowsuit. Though he wouldn’t put it past her to do just that out of pure spite. 

Minutes passed as they silently sipped their drinks, before Leia finally spoke up. “What did that kiss mean, earlier?” 

Han nearly spit caf all over the console. That was the last thing he’d expected to hear from her.

“What d’you mean?” It was a kiss. He thought he’d made his intentions pretty clear from the get-go. What else could it mean?

She turned, her stare colder than anything on Hoth. “Don’t play dumb,” she snapped. “It doesn’t suit you.”

Why was she asking about this now? After all the trouble she’d gone through to hide from him since said kiss, he’d figured she’d just go back to pretending to ignore their feelings for each other. “You’re the one that called me- what was it? ‘Half-witted’? Can’t have it both ways Princess,” he said, giving her a crooked smile. 

“Stop! Just answer the question.”

_Why do I have to spell everything out for you? Haven’t we already been through this?_ “Why’s it gotta have some kind of meaning?” Did she really not understand? Was she really that oblivious or was she the one playing dumb?

“So it meant nothing?” Kriff, how could she manage to sound so offended?

“I didn’t say that,” he snapped, turning back to the control console and muttering a few choice phrases in his mother tongue. 

“You know, I _am_ fluent in Corellian, right?” He could practically feel her staring daggers at him, her building anger almost tangible in the air around them.

“_Good_, maybe I wanted you to hear,” he muttered into his mug.

Leia huffed and he just _knew_ she was rolling her eyes, could see it so clearly in his mind. “Why must you always be so damned difficult to get along with?”

“_I’m_ difficult?” He whipped his head around so fast he nearly put a crick in his neck. What about her? She was the queen of ‘difficult’.

“Yes, _you_. You won’t give me a straight answer to anything. I’m only trying to communicate. Isn’t that what you were whining about earlier?” 

Heat prickled at the back of his neck. Han Solo did not whine. “Well, what do you think it meant?” 

Leia inhaled, drawing herself up and squaring her shoulders, her eyes glittering. No matter how many times Han had seen her angry, he was always amazed at the way her presence seemed to fill a room. Made it stifling. She was so small but she could make the entire galaxy feel smaller with her intensity. “Do you really think if I knew, I’d be asking?” It’d be beautiful if it wasn’t so damn infuriating. 

“Yes!” He knew he shouldn’t be raising his voice but he was so sick of always putting himself out there and never getting anything in return. And this whole clueless schtick was getting on every last one of his nerves. Chewie and his lectures be damned.

“Well I don’t!” The color in her cheeks had spread to the tips of her ears and her eyes burned with a furious intensity.

Han rubbed his hand along his jaw as he took her in, shaking his head slowly. “For someone so damn smart, you’re denser than a kriffin’ neutron star, y’know that?”

She clenched her fists. “Just answer the question! It’s not that fucking difficult,” she snarled. His eyes widened at her choice of words but the surprise only lasted for a moment before his own anger reached its breaking point. 

“I like you, Leia! I thought that was pretty fucking obvious! Why can’t you just admit there’s something between us?” Chewie was most definitely going to be on his ass about this later. At least the furry bastard could stop bugging him about being more direct. Han couldn’t be more explicit if he tried. 

“Don’t be absurd!” 

Han stared at her, his mouth hanging open. How could she be so stupid? “_Me_? What about _you_?”

Leia’s face had gone from pink to red and he could almost see her vibrating in her seat. Her anger was almost suffocating. Han leaned back as she sprang to her feet, half expecting her to smack him. Instead she just turned and stomped out of the cockpit, muttering all the way down the corridor, leaving Han to sit and wonder what he’d said wrong this time. 

_She asked a question and he answered it and she still storms off in a damn huff._ Was it him or was she just impossible to please? It was the argument on Hoth all over again. How many times were they going to have this conversation? How many times would he have to open himself up like this? Han slammed his fist against the edge of the console, swearing in every language he knew.

A few minutes later he heard the lumbering shuffle of his first mate. _Great._

“Before you start, all I did was be honest with ‘er and she just stomped off, sounding like a herd o' Banthas.” How someone so small could make so much noise, he’d never know.

Chewie settled in the now vacated captain’s chair, staring pointedly at Han. 

“I don’t know what her damage is,” Han said, grimacing as he sipped his caf. It had gone cold. Figures.

[“Is that all that happened?”] Chewie asked, tipping his head to the side.

“Yeah, I told‘er I had feelings for her and she says I’m bein’ absurd.” Han stared down at his mug, fiddling with the handle. “Might’ve gotten a little heated but she was bein’ dense.”

Chewbacca was silent for a few beats, the pilot’s seat creaking as he leaned back in it. [“So she ran off after you expressed feelings for her. Sounds like she got spooked.”]

“‘Spooked’? Make her sound like some frightened little animal.” If there was anything Leia wasn’t, it was scared and defenseless.

[“Perhaps she’s not ready to accept her feelings yet.”] he growled softly, shrugging his shoulders. [“So when you express interest, it scares her because she’s forced to evaluate her feelings.”]

Han thought on that for a moment, rubbing his thumb along the rim of his mug. 

[“Or maybe she’s simply afraid of what she feels.”]

“Yeah, but why? Didn’t think I was that scary,” Han said, staring dejectedly into his cold cup of caf. 

[“I think it has less to do with you and more to do with her own experiences, Cub.”] Han sighed and set his cup down, nearly spilling it from trying to place it on a datapad. 

Leia’s datapad. “Will you take this to the Princess? ‘M sure she’d sooner throw it at me than thank me.” Chewie nodded and stood up, taking the datapad from him before giving Han a Wookiee head rub.

[“Things will improve with time, Cub. Don’t worry about it too much.”]

  
──────────  


  
1442 GST  
3:14:3565 ATC  
2/39  


  
Of course, I left my datapad in the cockpit, but not even the Goddess herself could make me walk back there to retrieve it. I’ll just have to transcribe this once I get it back. At the least the blasted thing is encrypted into oblivion. I doubt even Threepio could get into it.

Anyway. I just had yet another fight with Han. At least this wasn’t in a corridor for all of the Alliance to hear. Small mercies I suppose. But the longer I think about it, the more I can’t help but think I overreacted. Just a bit.

In my defense, however, Han Solo is always making jokes about _everything_. Is it really so illogical of me to have assumed he wasn’t being serious? First, he began by refusing to give me a straight answer. And when I finally lost my patience, he tells me he likes me. Insists there’s something “between us”. <strike>You mean aside from a parsec of annoyance?</strike>

I shouldn’t have stormed out like I did but honestly, what reason did he give me to think he was taking me seriously? Of course his confession is absurd! No one has ever expressed any interest in me, let alone actually returned my feelings. And he wasn’t answering my question! I had to yell and curse at him to get that answer! Of course I didn’t believe him! 

Do I believe him now?

No. Not really. I _want_ to believe him. But if I allow myself to believe, if I allow myself to entertain such notions of romance, and it turns out to be some kind of joke... I can’t. I just can’t do that. Having unrequited feelings is hard enough. I refuse to let myself be a laughing stock again.

But...he didn’t _seem_ to be joking. The look on his face when he asked why I couldn’t just admit there was something between us.

He looked…_hurt_.

No. _Stop._ I’m not going there. Not until I talk to him again, at least. <strike>As if that went so well the first time.</strike>

Goddess, I hate this. Why can’t I just live my life without ever having emotions again? Or at the very least without having feelings for someone. I’m so tired of feeling these things. 

It’s not even just what I feel for Han. I could’ve handled it once upon a time but after everything that happened, and the Alliance...it’s all just _so much_. I don’t know how to hold it all inside me. I feel like I’m going to go mad trying but what other choice do I have? Oh no, I hear footsteps.

Someone’s knocking. Fuck me. 

Alright, it was only Chewie returning my datapad. Thank the Goddess. I think he knows. Even if he doesn’t, I’m sure I looked guilty.

I know I shouldn’t have walked out like that, but is it terrible that I’m glad I did? I definitely should have waited until my watch was over but I just felt so…_cornered_.

Besides, what was I supposed to do with “_I like you, Leia_”?

Why is he even telling me this _now_? He’s _leaving_.

Unless… it’s just because he thinks it’s the easiest way into my bed. But he wouldn’t do that. Right?

_Right_?

Kriff. I don’t know. I don’t _think_ he’s like that. But I don’t _know_. It’s that bit of doubt. And I’m just going to drive myself insane trying to figure it out. I don’t have enough energy to deal with this right now so I might as well put it out of my mind until I’m ready to talk to him again. Thankfully, I don’t have to see him the rest of the day if I don’t want to. Unless he comes looking for me. Goddess, I hope he doesn’t. I think I’m going to have to finally give in and sleep before I can deal with Han.  


  
──────────  


Chewbacca lingered outside the Princess’s cabin for a few moments after the door _whooshed_ close. Cub may think she’s angry and it had certainly sounded like it earlier but now that he’d seen her, sensed her emotions...there was so much more going on there. His heart clenched. He wanted to knock and offer her a hug but he’d have to settle for something else. Something she’d accept. Unfortunately there wasn’t much he *could* do. He couldn’t change the dark circles under her eyes or the cloud of emotions that hung around her like a thick fog.

And Cub wasn’t much better. So much pain and there was precious little Chewie could do about it. He turned and walked down the corridor, pausing at the intersection that led to the cockpit, listening to Cub fidget, probably tinkering with one of the many things that needed fixing. Chewie shook his head. So much pain and some of it could be alleviated if they just lowered their defenses a little. Let each other in. With how much Little Bird isolated herself, it couldn’t be good for her, especially after everything she’d gone through. She deserved someone as loyal as Cub; he had such a big heart once you managed to get past his prickly exterior. And he’d benefit from someone with her compassion; she was kind and gentle. But she didn’t put up with any of Cub’s antics. 

He shook his head again, sighing heavily as he checked the chrono mounted above the control console. It was nearly time for dinner and he had just enough time to prepare something for everyone before his watch. Not for the first time, he wished he could prepare them a _real_ meal. Calling their rations a ‘meal’ was an insult to good food across the galaxy. But it was all he had to work with and it was better than the alternative. Opening up the pantry, he focused on trying to make their food appetizing. He could call Malla later for advice on Cub and Little Bird’s problems.

They would be so good for each; Chewie knew it with a bone deep certainty. If only they’d open up long enough to see it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed the second chapter of _The Bespin Diaries_ as much as I loved writing it. As always feedback is greatly appreciated <3
> 
> Find me on [Tumblr](https://equusgirl.tumblr.com) maybe?


	3. Nightmares

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Leia's trauma isn't the only thing she struggles with.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, thank you to my absolutely genius beta, [Ksco](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ksco/pseuds/Ksco). You're the best and thank you for making sure I reach all my angsty potential.
> 
> I hope y'all like the <strike>angst</strike> chapter!

  
0423  
15:3:3656 ATC  
3/39  


  
Well I finally gave up fighting it and slept. Didn’t have any trouble falling asleep at least. <strike>Yeah, that tends to happen when you don’t sleep for some 72 standard hours, Organa.</strike> But here I am. Awakened by a nightmare, drenched in sweat and hoping my sheets will air dry by the time I can talk myself into sleeping again. They’re soaked and it’s rather disgusting.

I know, I really ought to be asking Han or Chewie where the spare sheets are, rather than writing about it, but that would involve waking one of them up. And they’d ask questions. It would also involve leaving my cabin and as ridiculous as it may sound, this ship is eerily kriffing quiet with both Han and Chewie asleep. It creeps me out. 

So I’m just going to sit here wrapped in Chewie’s blanket and hope the sheets will air dry. Thankfully I had a dry shirt to put on because, get this, Han left a pile of his clothes in my room while I was on watch. I yell at him and leave him with the rest of my watch, and he brings me clothes. I am such a Bantha’s ass. 

No use worrying about that now I suppose. I can thank him in the morning. With any luck I’ll hopefully have had some _restful_ sleep.

Goddess, sometimes I wonder if these nightmares will ever stop. I am so tired of waking up screaming or sweating or crying. It’s exhausting. 

I don’t just mean physically. It’s starting to feel like I’ll never stop being affected by this. By what happened. I just want to move past it. The Death Star, Alderaan, Cassian. All of it. I am so _tired_. I don’t want to be broken anymore. Maybe broken isn’t even the right word; it implies everything’s still there, just fragmented. And I lost so much more than the tangible that day. 

Obviously, I don’t want to forget about what happened to Alderaan or the people I lost. I just...I want the nightmares to stop. I want to stop having all these thoughts in my mind that refuse to leave. Half of the time they aren’t even about what happened! Which I’m honestly not even sure whether to be relieved or pissed off about that. 

At least if it they were about what happened, it’d make sense. I don’t understand the half of them. Some nights I don’t even remember the nightmare and sometimes I just wake up crying for no kriffing reason, feeling like the world’s going to end, or like there isn’t enough oxygen in the room. And yet there are other times I wake up, the sound of that blasted respirator still echoing around my mind and without fail, I always have a splitting headache and my shoulders ache from his phantom touch. 

It’s all so exhausting.

I just want it to stop. I want to stop hurting. I want to _rest_.  


  
0414  


  
I can’t sleep to save my life and if I lay here any longer, I swear I’m going to crawl out of my skin if I lay here any longer. I need to _do_ something. Anything. I need to get out of this kriffing cabin. It’s _stifling_. Creepy corridors be damned.

But what is there to do? Pace the corridors? That’s a great way to get labelled crazy. If I didn’t think I’d wake Chewie up, or actually knew what needed fixing, I would work on repairs. I suppose I could make myself a cup of tea. And then? Sit at the Dejarik table? I would sit in the gun turret but I can’t exactly descend a ladder with a cup of hot tea or I would sit in the gun turret. Well...I _could_, but 4 in the morning when everyone’s asleep probably isn’t the best time to attempt such a thing. 

Threepio probably wouldn’t mind if I sit with him in the cockpit. And the viewport makes it slightly less suffocating. There’s worse company I suppose. 

Guess I have my plan. Here’s hoping the ghosts that haunt the corridors of sleeping ships don’t get me. Standby.  


  
0431  


  
This isn’t so bad, actually. Walking through the quiet ship wasn’t quite as creepy as I had imagined, and I’m not possessed, so there’s that. I’m still not fond of it. But sitting in the cockpit with a cup of tea and a blanket is much better than that bunk. And Threepio is surprisingly decent company. He’s teaching me Shyriiwook. Now if I could just get my body to stop aching things might actually be okay.  


  
═══════════════  


A shrill scream split the quiet of the _Millennium Falcon_, echoing through the corridors. Han’s stomach tied itself in knots as he cursed, dropping his hydrospanner as he ran towards the cockpit, leaving Chewie to scramble down from the overhead service hatch. Whatever it was that he’d been expecting to find, it certainly wasn’t Leia having a nightmare. His shoulders sagged and he took a deep breath. This he could handle.

Or so he thought. He also hadn’t expected her to lash out, nails raking across the side of his face and her foot connecting with his shin. Good thing he had fast reflexes and her reach was short. 

“Leia!” He swore under his breath as he tripped over the center console as he scrambled backwards. “Leia, you’re safe. You’re on the _Falcon_. It’s okay. You’re okay.” Finally, she seemed to become aware of her surroundings. But as recognition dawned on her features, she shrank away from him, fear in her eyes. A knot formed in his chest.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered hoarsely, hiding her face in her hands. Han sat in the empty co-pilot’s seat, unsure how to comfort her. Or if she even wanted to be comforted. But he couldn’t just leave her. That didn’t feel right either. 

Chewie entered the cockpit, growling inquisitively. 

“Everything’s fine, pal.” He did know she wouldn’t want an audience however. 

[“You’re bleeding,”] he rumbled, indicating Han’s cheek. Han reached up, wincing as he touched the injury, his skin sticky and ragged. Leia swore and he looked over to see her eyes wide.

“S’nothing,” Han said, trying to wave her off as she stood over him, examining his face. 

“Chewie, would you get a medipac, please?”

“It’s _fine_,” he reiterated, glaring at her as Chewie disappeared with a nod. She narrowed her eyes, finally meeting his gaze as her lips pressed into a thin line. 

“Oh, really?” She reached up and pressed a finger to the injury, raising an eyebrow as he hissed and pushed her hand away. She sighed, her features softening. “Just let me treat it. _Please,_” she said quietly, and holding his gaze as she continued to silently plead with him. Now Han sighed and rolled his eyes, though whether it was at her or himself, he didn’t know. He only knew he couldn’t say no to her, not when she looked at him like that. 

“Fine.” The set of her shoulders relaxed a little and she reached up as she met his gaze again, asking another silent question. After a brief moment, he nodded slightly. She hooked a finger under his chin, tipping his head back as her other hand pushed his hair back from his face. Her touch was pleasantly cool, but warmth curled through his veins and down his spine. He forced himself not to lean into it, no matter how much he wanted to; now wasn’t the time to close his eyes and revel in the softness of her skin against his. 

He swallowed hard. 

“Han, I am _so_ sorry,” she whispered. It was like someone had reached inside his chest and had a stranglehold on his heart as her lower lip trembled, blinking rapidly. 

“Hey, look at me,” he said, not continuing until her eyes were on his. “It ain’t your fault, alright?” She only stared at him, eyes glittering as she bit her lip. “Y’didn’t mean to. Y’didn’t _know_.” 

Finally, she nodded, swallowing hard before looking away. Chewie lumbered back into the cockpit, handing over one of the various medipacs they had stashed around the ship along with a few wash clothes. 

“Thank you, Chewie,” she said, her voice uncharacteristically rough.

[“Anytime, Little Bird,”] he rumbled, squeezing her arm gently before exiting the cockpit. 

Quiet settled over the cockpit once more, the only sound the hum of the surrounding instruments as she laid out everything she’d need and began treating his face. Her fingers brushed Han’s neck as she laid a towel over his shoulder and tucked the edge under the collar of his shirt. He ignored the goosebumps that erupted across his skin and suppressed a shiver. 

Han was always amazed at how she could be so gentle, her hands light and tender as she moved with practiced ease. The same person that could wield a blaster with deadly accuracy and fix starships and on one memorable occasion, dropping a bounty hunter with one well-aimed swing of a durasteel pipe. Leia Organa was formidable and absolutely ruthless but she could also be loving and kind. Compassionate. And he was certainly lucky to be able to see all of her: her strength, her scars, her passion, her perseverance even in the face of the unimaginable. Everything that came together to make her pretty features absolutely beautiful. 

“Wipe that mooney-eyed look off your face, Captain,” she murmured, her eyes meeting his for a brief moment as the corner of her mouth turned up before her attention returned to her work. 

Maybe he should be embarrassed. “What? Can’t I admire you?” He asked, smiling at her. 

She shook her head and rolled her eyes. “Sure, it’s really admirable considering I did this,” she said, frowning.

“Leia-”

“I know.” She sighed, her shoulders sagging. “I _know_.”

He eyed her for a moment, chewing the inside of his cheek as he weighed his options. “Y’wanna talk about it?” Nothing ventured, nothing gained.

“No.”

“Ohkay,” he said, nodding as he continued to watch her work, taking the time to _really_ look at her. That’s when he noticed just how dark the circles under her eyes were. How they looked more like black eyes set against the pallor of her skin. 

“Leia-” 

“_Don’t_.”

“I’m worried about you,” he said quietly, not wanting to push her but knowing he was already treading on dangerous ground. Her gaze flicked to his and her hands paused as she really _looked_ at him. Searching. Maybe it was his imagination or simply what he wanted to see but he was almost certain her features softened. Her defenses dropping a little. 

“I’m _fine_,” she insisted, her tone lacking any real anger as she turned back to her work. Han had to stifle a sigh and force himself not to roll his eyes. Yeah, having nightmares and looking like death was real _fine_. And _he_ was a Jedi Knight. 

But forcing her to talk didn’t seem to be the way to get anywhere. Maybe Chewie was right. Maybe he needed a softer approach. “I wish you’d stop pushin’ me away.”

Leia sighed and closed her eyes for a brief moment, as she seemed to almost shrink in on herself. “What do you want from me?” She asked quietly as she finally looked up and eyed him warily. 

“I don’t know,” Han said, staring at her slightly wide eyed. In that moment, she looked 2,200 years old as opposed to the 22 years she really was. What _did_ he want? _Everything._ “Stop runnin’ away.”

She swallowed hard and looked away, fidgeting with the various medical supplies she’d set out. “I felt cornered.” 

His eyebrows shot up. “_Cornered_?”

Leia nodded, resolutely not meeting his gaze. “I didn’t know what to do with...your confession. It doesn’t make sense.”

“What’s there t’make sense of?” _I love you, what else is there to understand?_

Finally, she stopped fidgeting and rounded on him incredulously. “You’re _leaving_, Han. You don’t just confess- _that_ and then run away.”

He stared at her quietly for a few beats. “You could make me stay, y’know,” he said, hating how his voice threatened to break. _Make me stay. Ask me._

“Could I? _Really_?” She raised an eyebrow, as though she was daring him to contradict her. And he wanted to. He opened his mouth, ready to do just that. But he couldn’t. The words wouldn’t come. Leia nodded as she went back to cleaning his face, like he’d just confirmed some long held belief. 

“‘F it’s what y’really wanted,” he whispered hoarsely. Her hand froze but she avoided making eye contact. All of time and space stood still in that moment, as he waited for her response. 

“Han...don’t. _Please._” Her voice cracked on the last word, her lips pressed into a thin line and her jaw clenched. Han was pretty sure his stomach was on the cockpit floor as heat prickled at the back of his neck. He swallowed and nodded, dropping his gaze. 

“We done here?” He asked, his voice rough and gravelly as he stood up and pulled the towel from his shoulder, not bothering to wait for an answer. 

“Han!” He ignored her as he strode out of the cockpit and down the corridor. Maybe it was abrupt and rude but he couldn’t really find it in himself to care. He couldn’t keep doing this and he couldn’t stay in that cockpit with her, pretending her denial wasn’t hurting him. He swallowed hard.

Chewie stuck his head out from a maintenance bay, letting out a concerned rumble. 

“Not now,” Han snapped, not bothering to stop. He just needed to be alone.

  
═══════════════  


Chewbacca silently watched as Cub disappeared around a corner, Chewie’s chest tightening as he sensed Cub’s hurt. With a whuffling sigh, he set down his tools and wiped the grease off his hands.

No matter how much he wanted to go after Cub, years of experience had taught him better. There was only one thing that could currently upset his friend like that. If Cub was hurting, Chewie had no doubt that the Princess was too. He edged out of the tight maintenance bay and headed for the cockpit. And though there was a good chance she also wanted to be alone, he at least had to check on her. She could tell him to leave her be.

As he neared the cockpit, the same heavy sense of anguish hung in the air. He paused at the threshold, watching as she cleaned up the various medical supplies. [“Are you okay, Little Bird?”] 

She jumped, fumbling with a roll of gauze and continuing to keep her back to him. “Yeah, I’m fi-” Her sentence was interrupted by a strange choking noise and she clenched her hands into fists until her knuckles turned white. Chewie took a couple shuffling steps further into the cockpit. “I’m-” She shook her head and remained silent for several moments and just as Chewie was about to speak up, a strangled sob echoed off the cockpit walls. Something clenched deep in his chest. 

“I’m–sorry,” she whispered haltingly, between sobs that wracked her whole body as she hid her face in her hands. 

[“No need to be sorry,”] he growled gently. What should he do? He knew what he _wanted_ to do but this was the Princess and he was next to clueless when it came to her. Even more so when it came to her crying. He also knew she’d rather not have anyone witness her like this. But he couldn’t just _leave_ her. Never mind the fact that Malla would skin him alive if she ever found out he’d done such a thing. 

So he took a tentative step in her direction before reaching out and placing his hand on her back. He tensed as she froze, waiting for her to pull away, but it was as if the last of her defenses fell. She gave herself over to whatever it was that was troubling her and leaned into his touch. Her shoulders heaved with heart-wrenching sobs that were amplified by their quiet environment. He took another step closer, beginning to move his hand in small circles. 

And then, in yet another unexpected turn of events, she turned and half-fell, half-launched herself into his chest. It took him a moment of stunned silence before he wrapped his arms around her small form and held onto her tightly. She knotted her fingers in his fur as she wept, her whole body heaving with each anguished sound. It was a wonder how someone so tiny could contain so much pain. He tightened his hold on her and rumbled quiet nonsense as he rocked her from side to side, hoping to soothe whatever he could. 

Eventually, her sobs quieted until the only sound coming from her were petite little hiccups. “I–hic–really am–hic–sorry,” she said, her voice muffled slightly. 

[“Don’t. Nothing to be sorry for.”]

She shifted and he loosened his hold as she pulled away to look up at him. “Somehow I don’t–hic–think looking after–hic–me is part of the job description,” she said, sniffing as the corners of her mouth turned up. 

He growled dismissively, throwing his head. Humans and their limited views of family. She mattered to Cub and, therefore, himself by extension. Besides, he’d grown fond of her over the years. It was obvious she was lonely and she was so _young_. She needed more people that cared about her. [“You’re part of my family now.”]

The Princess pulled back a little more and tipped her head to the side, her brow furrowing. “I’m sorry?”

[“You’re,”] he growled, reaching up to cup the side of her face as he carefully enunciated his words. [“My.”] He rested his other hand on his chest. [“Family.”] Of course she likely wouldn’t understand the full meaning of what he meant but he had no other way of explaining it to her without Cub or the droid. Hopefully she at least understood that she wasn’t alone.

She stared up at him, blinking those big eyes and he saw the exact moment she understood. She swallowed hard and her lower lip trembled. “Thank you, Chewbacca,” she whispered, her voice just as tremulous as her smile. 

He growled lovingly, pulling her back into another hug.

  
═══════════════  


  
1531  
3:16:3656 ATC  
3/39  


  
Goddess help me I don’t think I have ever wanted to fling myself out an airlock more than I do now. 

I don’t even know where to start. <strike>Why am I like this?</strike>

So, as if falling asleep on watch isn’t bad enough, I had to gouge half of Han’s face off. Granted, it was an accident, and I was disoriented, but still! And then. _And then!_ I had to go and hurt his feelings. Because I guess hurting him physically just wasn’t good enough. And I don’t mean one of our usual fights. I _really_ hurt him this time. I don’t even know if I can fix it.

I didn’t even mean to either! Apparently I can just…do that without even trying now. What an improvement. Really saves some energy.

But wait; _it gets better_.

As if I wasn’t already enough of a bantha’s ass, I go and have a total emotional breakdown in front of Chewie. Complete with sobbing and ugly crying. Sounds like a fun day right? Wookies give great hugs though. 

I am such a disaster and should not be allowed to interact with the sentient populace. 

I am just…so exhausted. And when Chewie came in and asked if I was okay (with that nickname he has for me no less), I…couldn’t hold myself together any longer. I suppose the content of the dream didn’t really help matters. 

But that’s no excuse for hurting Han. Emotionally, I mean. Obviously what I did to his face isn’t great either but I wasn’t exactly cognizant of what I was doing. _Anyway._ I can’t get his expression out of my head. All because I can’t be honest. Not with myself or anyone else. Why can’t I just be normal? 

But _no._ I can’t just tell Han how I feel because that would just be too damn easy. 

Thankfully, Chewie didn’t seem to mind me sobbing into his fur or the fact that I hurt Han. Physically or emotionally. <strike>Kriffing hell.</strike> He also told me that I’m family? That wookiee is an absolute blessing I don’t deserve, I swear. 

How am I going to fix this?

I’m a senator for fuck’s sake! Speaking is my _job_! I should be able to communicate better than this.

It’s all just so...terrifying. All these emotions are terrifying and I have no idea what to do with them and I honestly wish they’d just go away so I didn’t have to deal with this. Obviously, I should tell Han that I want him to stay but…it makes me vulnerable, and we all know how I feel about that…

If anything useful comes out of this, I’m fairly sure that Han’s feelings for me are sincere. Or he thinks they are anyway. The way he was looking at me when I was tending to his face– it reminded me of the way my father used to look at my mother… Aside from how absolutely ludicrous that is, I should feel something other than sheer terror, right? My feelings aren’t unrequited. What he sees in me, I don’t know. I’m a black hole of anger and fear and hatred. 

I should be able to confidently tell him I want him to stay. I wanted to, but I can’t. Especially after I saw how much pain I’d caused. I wanted to run after him and scream at him down the corridor like we seem to be so fond of doing. A little piece of normalcy amidst this chaos. But for once in my life, words failed me. 

I’m going to have to find the words to tell him. I can’t stand to see him hurt. Knowing I’m the cause.

Goddess, this is so _ridiculous_. I am a walking disaster. Does he know how _broken_ I am? <strike>Clawing his face off ought to have given him some sort of clue.</strike> I mean, who in their right mind would want to sign up for this? 

But this is Han we’re talking about; it’s a well established fact he’s insane so maybe I really shouldn’t be so surprised.

But what if I can’t love him the way he deserves? The last thing I want to do is hurt him. Nobody deserves that, least of all Han. I want him to stay. I want him to chose to stay. _For me._ To choose me. But Goddess, that feels like asking him to suffer because I just know I’ll hurt him. I _will_ fuck this up.  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! I don't normally _love_ my writing like I do this chapter, so I really do hope you enjoyed it <3
> 
> Scream into my [inbox](https://equusgirl.tumblr.com)?
> 
> I am also helping organize a Hanleia holiday exchange! [Here](https://hanleiasecretsanta.tumblr.com/post/189160193114/we-are-pleased-to-announce-that-we-here-at) is more info, if you're interested! We'd love to have you!

**Author's Note:**

> *throws my Bespin-era fic onto the already enormous pile* This fic is a first for me in many ways. My first time writing HanLeia. My first time writing a Star Wars fic. My first fic after a massive writer's block. So yeah...I hope y'all enjoyed the first chapter!
> 
> As I'm sure you know, kudos/comments are an author's lifeblood and I'm no different; I'd love to hear your thoughts!
> 
> Say 'hi' to me on [tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/equusgirl)!


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